The Importance of Reading
by Rokutagrl
Summary: Izumi attempts to teach Mizutani the importance of reading. Abe suffers. MihAbe, HamaIzu, ShinoMizu


Author: Rokutagrl

Title: The Importance of Reading

Pairings: HamaIzu, AbeMiha, ShinoMizu.

Warnings: Bad writing, especially near the end X) Oh, and yaoi. And het, depending on your preference?

Summary: Izumi attempts to teach Mizutani the importance of reading. Abe is the one who suffers.

X)

_Liu Bei felt the sword resting deep within his lungs, the liquid filling his chest until the warrior was sure he would drown in his own blood. His friends circled his dying body, hiccupping their sorrows for a loss soon to be. He held his last breath, allowing his exhaled words to blow in the air and rest on the ears of his loved ones like caressing rain drops, "I_… wanna hold your haaaaaaaaand!"

Mizutani ungraciously danced his way into the locker room, thrumming his fingers to the beat in his head on what should have been a noiseless, imaginary guitar.

"Du du du duuuuuu du du du duuuuuuuu!" went the unseen, but fully audible instrument.

The strawberry blond preceded to make his entrance as noisily, and entertaining as possible. He hip-thumped one of the lockers, causing it to rattle with shaking contents before he plopped down on the bench in front of his own locker, depositing his gym bag to the floor with a dramatized, "Uhf!" Only then did he take notice of the all ready lit room and the once-sole occupant sitting beside him, but facing the opposite direction. When Izumi didn't look up from the pages of text in his lap, Mizutani took it for granted that the wispy haired outfielder had been too engrossed in his reading to even notice his presence.

Like with most things, Mizutani was wrong in the most unfortunate of ways.

"Good morning, Izumi!" He waved a hand in front of the other's face. This did not bring the desired effect, so the blond continued to communicate through music.

"I WANNA HOLD YOUR HAAAANNNDDDD!" And upon that gruesome note, tore Izumi's fingers from the book and tried instigating some sort of hand swaying motion.

Which ended up smacking the left fielder in the face. "OW!"

"I'm trying to read!" Izumi emphasized his point by whapping the novel over his friend's head. "Is the dye in your hair so thick you can't understand that?"

The only reason Mizutani heard him was because the assault to his face had knocked out his headphones. (Or rather when he went to hold his battered head, he accidentally knocked out the plugs. But it was still all Izumi's fault, really).

"I don't dye my hair, for your information! This is natural!" He pulled on a hair of orange-blond before glaring at his 'friend.'

"You didn't have to hit me!" The dorkier of the two proclaimed, holding up his hands in guard just in case Izumi tried to whack him again. He was too preoccupied with his face to block the assault on his knees.

"Stupid." When the battle appeared over, Mizutani uncurled from his armor of baseball cleats and limbs. He was no stranger to the insult, but for once Izumi actually sounded pissed. Something he only ever seemed to be around a certain, taller Cheer Leader.

"Why are you reading in here anyway?" Mizutani noted the quiet locker room and the sun, barely up. "It's a little early to be reading."

Izumi flipped to a page, dented the very tip, and closed the novel altogether.

"Why'd you do that?"

Izumi glared, "Isn't it too early to read?"

Mizutani felt his face go hot at the ice in his friend's stare. "Is it?"

Izumi sighed, much like he often did when dealing with his 'socially inept' teammates. "I'm dead by the time I make it home, my brother is back from college for the week and doesn't let me use the light anyway. I'm usually napping during class and by the time school is over it all repeats itself." He explained, momentarily relaxing his head on Mizutani's shoulder to visually share his exhaustion.

The strawberry blond half-smiled, understanding where the others problems came from. But he still didn't get, "Why do you have to read here?"

"Because it's quiet," Izumi shot back. Mizutani frowned, looking guilty and apologized. "It's all right… I have to be here in the morning anyway, so when I'm behind on reading I make it here before everyone else. I just _almost _finished."

Mizutani turned his body so that the two were sitting with their feet down the middle of the aisle, facing a row of lockers. "What are you reading?" He tried looking in the other's lap, but found the attention a bit too awkward to hold.

Izumi smiled at the others nuances. "Sanguo Yanyi."

"Oh!" Mizutani squealed, "I listened to the first one!"

"Yeah, it's really good. Do you want to know what happens to—" Izumi went silent for a moment, cocking an eyebrow. "Wait, you listened to it?"

"Yeah!" Mizutani excitedly pawed through his pocket and produced his iPod for the brunet's discomfort. "My friend sent me the audio file! It's really cool, man! I can't wait for the movie, it's going to be so badass!"

The dimmed boy realized the look on his companion's face. "What?"

"You listened to the book? How do you listen to a book!"

"Oh! Well, see, someone reads it into a microphone, or something, and then they do voices for all the little characters and you can hear a whole novel while you bike, or run, or shower-!"

Izumi had to cut him off at that point, or else he knew they would end up on topics better left unexplored. For now, anyway. "Not going to mention how stupid you would have to be to bring your iPod in the shower," he pointed his gaze, "but there's a difference between reading and listening to a book, Mizutani."

Said boy didn't seem to get it. "It's the same thing, right? Except I don't have to worry about water damage!"

"Just brain damage."

"Hey!"

"Okay, okay…" Izumi mumbled, holding up the worn cover of his book, depicting the scene of a mystical jungle and a weird, misshapen female figure. "This is what a book looks like."

Mizutani grabbed at the material, pulling around the edges to feel the papers. "It doesn't feel like the books they give us in class…" Izumi frowned when one excited finger tore a page. "Oops! Sorry!"

Izumi brushed his bangs from his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose carefully. "Give me back the book, Mizutani." No further warning needed to be issued.

Izumi, book secured tightly in his own hands, showed him papers like a teacher would her kindergarten class. "Textbooks are zeroxed and hard bound."

"Hard bound?"

Izumi sighed, "There are hard covers, like your text book, but there are also just hard covered books with paper.

"I like paperbacks myself," Izumi was saying. "The covers are made of zeroxed paper and soft. They're easier to bend and slide, and their spine is easily manipulated. The more you break them the more 'yours' they become."

Mizutani looked like he could actually be dizzy. "Books become yours?"

Izumi nodded. "Every book is different, even one's with copies."

"But then… How?"

"By the marks." Izumi ran his fingers down the spine of his book, showing Mizutani the patterns crafted by years of wear.

"That's cool," though he didn't sound all that interested. "So how do you figure out what type to read?" He ran his hand over a particularly dented portion. "It looks kind of junky."

"By reading it!" Izumi emphasized. "You can only understand a book by reading it," he explained, more calmly. "Covers are just a personality that brings you in. The story is what you fall in love with."

Mizutani frowned, "That sounds difficult."

He felt like giving up altogether when his next subject walked into the locker room. "Here," he suggested, handing over the novel to Mizutani. "I'll show you."

Mizutani peeked at each cover, mumbling the descriptions before a thought occurred to him. "Show me with what?" He held up the subject of discussion.

The freckled boy regarded the object momentarily, and then took it out of Mizutani's hold. "On second thought, I should keep this." Mizutani looked pleased that he had one-upped his teammate, before realizing Izumi had meant to save his item; he hadn't actually needed it. "Hey!"

"You see that book over there?" Izumi pointed to the row of lockers across from them. Mizutani squinted, despite the lack of distance, and shook his head. "Nope, no books. I do see Abe, though. HI ABE!" The left fielder's voice filled the room twice over after banging against the semi-empty steel.

Abe not five feet from the huddled boys grunted, replying with a, "Mornin' Mizu-teme." His response was not appreciated by the strawberry blond, but disregarded as Izumi kept speaking.

"That book there is a hard cover." Mizutani looked slightly fascinated about this source of information. The raven-haired catcher was a whirlwind of confused and pissed.

"Hard cover?" He prompted his shirt over his shoulders, glaring at his observers. "What are you rambling on about?"

The left fielder cowered at the venom, about ready to give up on his new exploration of life and hide from the world under his music, but Izumi held his hand back from clicking his iPod.

Grinning, Izumi continued, "There really isn't all that much to see on the outside of this cover. You have to base your interest on the art alone."

"I wouldn't read anything that looked like Abe!" Mizutani defended himself. "No offense, man."

Abe glared. He didn't like the chill in Izumi's grin, or the fascination Mizutani was showing. For a moment it looked like the blond might even go out and try to touch his stomach—to prove this 'hard' theory, until the catcher promised, with his eyes, that he would bite.

This psychic exchange did not go unnoticed from Izumi.

"See what I mean? Abe's hard." Mizutani laughed at Izumi's word choice and Abe stiffened—in the back.

When the giggles finished the dark haired teenager wondered about their discussion. "What stupid things are you going on about?"

"Books." Izumi told him simply. Mizutani nodded.

"Izumi's teaching me why reading is important."

Abe stared at his teammates for a minute or two before asking, "What?"

"With Abe it's hard to read him from just the cover." Izumi transferred back into a studious mood, turning his attentions on Mizutani. "If you walked by him, you couldn't tell he'd been bruised—catchers and their egos ("Pitchers have egos!")—but he is. Used and abused."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Abe threw on his pants and reached into his locker to find his practice shirt. It took him a moment, so he missed the next half of the conversation. Not that he really cared what they thought about him, but the point being they were talking about him, period. And it didn't seem nice at all.

After retrieving his shirt from falling to the bottom of his personal locker, Abe tried to listen to the rest of the details without showing much interest. The less he cared, the less he got picked on, right?

Then again he was dealing with Izumi. Mizutani was just stupid.

"Oh!" The strawberry blond was exclaiming in a moment of clarity. "Abe's only feature is that he's attractive, but doesn't have a personality! I, uh, mean, he's erk—rough? Harsh—Hard on the edges? ATTRACTIVE? SORRY!"

Abe realized that he must have been glaring daggers at the left fielder and sighed. "Whatever, man. I don't care."

Which was actually a totally, completely, failing lie. He'd been trying to get along with his teammates better in hopes of starting some friendships, so it kind of stung that some still held their poor point of view of him. And even more infuriatingly, he was fanning that flame.

Izumi, he really didn't care. At least that's how Abe felt, since the straight-faced center fielder just shrugged his shoulders. "That's about the gist of it," he agreed to Mizutani. "But you shouldn't take covers for everything."

This softened the scowl on Abe's face, and turned slightly to hear more of this problem while pretending to be fixing his cleats. On the wrong feet. _DAMMIT!_

Izumi smiled, realizing just how interesting his morning had become. Sure, he'd been pissed—due to a lack of sleep in his own bed and not even getting his five minutes alone in the morning—but now he could really say he was glad. How many opportunities did one get to put a chink in Abe's armor? He got to bother Hamada and Mizutani often. Abe was a rare playmate.

"That's where the reading part comes in?"

"Right." Mizutani looked exhausted all ready. "When you open a book like Abe, that's when you notice all the changes. Worn pages, font, whether the plot or writing is decent."

"But what's this have to do with reading?" Abe wanted to know, too!

Izumi sighed with exaggeration. He actually soaked in having an audience. "You can't assume anything by just looking. That tells you more about the handle than if you like it or not."

Mizutani frowned, "Then what's so important about the looks?"

"You're not going to pick up a book with a pretty princess on the cover, right?" Mizutani didn't say anything, but fiddled with his hands held fast in his lap muttering his agreement. Izumi looked amused, "Well you wouldn't buy a book with Abe in a pretty princess dress on the cover."

Mizutani agreed to this scenario vigorously. Abe was just glad his hands were tied with lacing and re-lacing his shoes.

"If the cover isn't in your taste, you probably won't bother to pick it up. If you don't want worn covers or marks you'll check out the hard covers."

"Reading books are too much work," Mizutani finally decided to share. Abe didn't think so, since he preferred reading science fiction novels in the spare time between baseball and memorizing stats (and homework). But he just never put too much thought into his reading material. Though probably because he'd been reading for most of his life, unlike Mizutani who probably thought the function of a library was for study groups.

Izumi shrugged, "It's really not that difficult.

"Now look at this cover over here—he's definitely a manipulator ("I thought you said he was hard!"), so I bet he reads paperbacks."

Abe thought about his collection at home—mint pages with spines cracked down the center just the way he liked it; Izumi had him pegged.

"So what have you learned so far?"

"Uhm... that reading is important?" Mizutani didn't appreciate the whap on his head for having paid attention. "That Abe is attractive, but hard. And he likes paperbacks... because he's hard?"

Izumi rolled his dark blue eyes, "It's the type of... book he is. Rough on the outside, soft on the inside with mushy pages crinkled."

"I do not have mushy pages!" Abe seethed, because he could feel Izumi's point rubbing into his side. He was telling Mizutani that while Abe seemed altogether on the outside, he was some little pansy with hurt feeling just wanting a chance.

So. Not. True.

Izumi looked nothing short of amused, ignoring his dizzy pupil in favor of the subject. "All your pages are bent exactly the way _they_ wanted." Izumi didn't have to state the name of the trespasser—Abe knew exactly who had ruffled his sleeve before. He hadn't exactly kept his feelings on the subject a secret.

Abe remembered when Haruna was his pitcher. He had looked up to the guy, followed him around every presentable chance. He would pick up some of his exercising habits (mainly for hips and thighs), worked out his own routine here and there, and spent his free time asking Shun to pitch for him (though his brother had no power, and definitely no control).

But he wanted to advance with Haruna, with his team. Go as far as they could together. His spiteful counterpart had no similar interest. His were for personal gain—passing the time with Abe and using his talents to stay sharp for the next—uhm, sequel?—that came along. Abe was a stepping-stone. The tool he needed to advance. Their time together battered his body and sometimes he would even admit, his heart. Just a little bit.

So yeah, maybe his pages were a little ruffled and bent.

And now Izumi was using his bruises for gain. Typical.

"But," Izumi changed directions, "now that you've been tossed out you have a new owner."

Abe's face reddened by the implications alone, "Don't you dare!"

"Dare what? What the hell are you guys talking about?" The strawberry blond looked as though he might start crying. Abe and Izumi were on the same page—Mizutani was still lost at the cover.

"Don't," Abe warned again, baring his teeth.

Izumi was grinning harder than the catcher had ever seen. Not that he paid too much attention to the batter's moods, but he was certain nothing had been this entertaining all year. To Izumi, this must have been better than winning Tosei. Abe could only hope he had a heart.

Unfortunately: "Don't you like being smoothed out?"

"That doesn't sound appropriate!" Mizutani pointed out, ignoring the tense atmosphere.

"It wasn't meant to be."

"You're a bitch!" Abe accused, slamming his locker shut. It would have been the best time to escape, too, had Abe not locked inside his mitt and other necessities. _Dammit!_

"What's going on?" Mizutani whispered, not quiet enough, to his fellow outfielder. He hadn't been able to absorb the information unfolding around him.

Izumi was about to explain the situation, to the catcher's chagrin, when the theme music to _Ouran High School Host Club_ sounded off. "Time to hit the field!" The brunet commented as he started collecting his belongings. Mizutani jumped to it as well, always happy to share the journey to the field rather than go it alone.

Abe had other plans, attempting to regain a bit of dignity by huffing out of there before the other two. Though the raven-haired teen contemplated that having stayed in bed that morning, staring at the ceiling of his bedroom rather than that of the clubroom might have been the more dignified position. Also, the least painful.

"T-T-Takaya-kun?" Mihashi fussed, scrambling through a whirlwind of yellow and black, wondering about his catcher's condition and hoping he hadn't caused (more) brain damage. The blond's companion, Tajima, laughed heartily while helping his 'friend' up, less worried about a concussion than the other.

As they sat him back on the benches, Mihashi went through the techniques he had learned from Shiga-po in checking for injury. "H-How many fingers?" Mihashi wondered, holding three up for Abe's vision.

"I'm fine," he tried again, facing the other direction. Mihashi did not take this as a truth and wondered if the other had a fever. The blond brushed a couple strands of black hair from the tan face as he placed his own pale hand on his catcher's forehead.

"N-no f-fever!" Mihashi exhaled, gladly, while Tajima patted him on the back with a, "Told ya!"

Abe almost chocked on his Adam's apple, hiding his face in hopes no one had noticed the millions of broken blood vessels bursting in his cheeks.

Izumi slapped him on the shoulder on his way out, "Isn't it great to be cherished?"

A second pat caught him slightly off guard as an awkward Mizutani apologized, following his instructor through the door.

"Idiots!"

"We're sorry!" Tajima quipped.

XD

Mizutani stretched so as to hide the sun from blotting his vision as they entered the field. "That made my head hurt!"

"I bet," Izumi agreed with a light chuckle. "We can talk more after practice?"

"Nah," Mizutani decided with a shrug. "I think I'll be just fine with my audio books for now. I don't think I can get the hang of this hard, soft thing."

"That's what she said?" Hamada wondered, jogging up to the two with a rather confused expression.

Mizutani mirrored the sentiment, "Huh?"

"Well, you said, 'Hard thing,' so I said… What were you guys talking about anyway?" The taller bond wondered, hiking his backpack up further over his shoulder to keep it from falling.

"Books," Izumi and Mizutani simultaneously answered. Hamada looked both concerned and amused by their new antics.

"That reminds me!" He exclaimed happily, shoving through his pack quickly and producing a book, which he handed over to Izumi. "I wanted to return this!"

Izumi studied the text in his hand with pursed lips. "You could have just waited for class." He did smile, though, when Hamada's face colored.

"I—uh, well… Shiga-po! He asked me to help out today!" Hamada looked proud having remembered his business.

"Oh!" Mizutani jumped, having recognized the title and cover. "That's the sequel, right?" He looked it over more closely and frowned, "I thought you liked paperbacks!"

"What?"

"I do," Izumi shrugged, "but my mom bought me this for Christmas."

"You have a preference for books?" Hamada seemed to think the idea crazy. Izumi didn't seem glad to hear it.

"Of course!"

"It's really confusing," Mizutani added.

Izumi was about to open his whole spiel again about how wonderful it was to lose one's self in reading—though not as mushy sounding—when he noticed an interesting image in the corner of his vision.

"Shinooka likes paperbacks," he pointed out with a grin.

Mizutani snatched the novel from his fellow outfielder without another word and went to sit nonchalantly next to the manager. She only looked confused for a moment until her violet eyes locked on Izumi's conspiratorial grin. She shrugged—life had been pretty boring lately. She'd survive at least one of Izumi's games. This time, maybe.

"What was that all about?" Hamada wondered, wearily. "On second thought, never mind." Izumi agreed, afraid the information might fry his friend's overly sensitive brain.

Then a thought occurred to the former pitcher. "Is Mizutani reading a book?"

Izumi sighed, but didn't seem too exasperated, as was his usual feeling. "Mizutani has a whole new outlook on life."

"…Over a book?"

"No, over a girl. Stupid!" Izumi was about to say, but thought better on his chances. "Yeah," he agreed. "Books can be life altering."

Hamada looked skeptical, "I don't get it."

Izumi ran an unnecessarily friendly thumb over his older friend's spine, causing the towering Cheer Leader to shiver. He slapped the attention off his back, hiding his glowing face in the process. "What the hell was that about?" Though the anger in his words didn't match the tone of his voice.

Izumi smiled, "Let me teach you a thing or two about books."

:D

So a person I know, who shall remain nameless, has this control issue where if you wish to read any of her books you must heed by her rules. For instance if you read paperbacks, you cannot open them wide enough to actually read because _that bends the spine. _And since this person has SO MANY paperbacks and can be summarized as a bit controlling at times, I thought the idea a bit nifty to separate people into these categories.

And yeah, it got a bit sucky around when Mihashi entered, but I wrote that part in a car and I've all ready held onto this story since June :/


End file.
